


better off as lovers

by summerofspock



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: 1970s, Anal Sex, Attempt at Humor, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), But its a little angsty, Disco Crowley, Frottage, Getting Back Together, Kissing, M/M, Making Up, Misunderstandings, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Tony's Moustache, Top Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24397159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerofspock/pseuds/summerofspock
Summary: After their disastrous break-up in 1862, Aziraphale has hoped that he and Crowley might find a way back to each other.Featuring a terrible moustache, a date(???), and lots of love.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 72
Kudos: 556
Collections: Aziraphale/Crowley Smut Library, Stayin' Julive - The Tony Month Collection, The Apocalapse





	better off as lovers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doorwaytoparadise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doorwaytoparadise/gifts).



> For Claire because I saw your tony art and it broke me. Tony deserves love and I will make sure he gets it.
> 
> Not related to my facial hair series but clearly adjacent. I can't get over this moustache
> 
> Title from (you guessed it) Bang the Doldrums by Fall Out Boy.

Crowley banged into the bookshop just after three pm which, once upon a time would have been a normal activity, but had long since been abandoned for awkward phone calls asking for permission to stop by. 

Aziraphale was so shocked that he nearly dropped his book. “Crowley?”

Crowley frowned. “Who else would it be? Are your eyes broken?”

“No,” Aziraphale retorted. “But last I saw you, you certainly weren’t sporting that awful moustache.”

Crowley's eye roll was so prominent Aziraphale could see it through his glasses. "It's called fashion, angel. Look it up."

Aziraphale put down the book he was in the middle of trying to decide where to reshelve and really took Crowley in. Dark red silk shirt with a deeply unnecessary neckline. Aziraphale could see his chest hair which was really...well, he tried not to think about it. They were...what did the humans say? Broken up. Aziraphale had finally caved five years ago and given Crowley the holy water he'd asked for on the day they had split up in 1862 and Aziraphale had wrongfully assumed that what with the saving from nazis and his own apology that they might move forward. But they hadn't. It was dreadfully disappointing.

Crowley raised his eyebrows and Aziraphale realized he'd just been staring at him for several seconds. He started and said, "Oh, my apologies, how can I help you?"

"Help me?" Crowley asked incredulously. "I'm not some customer."

Aziraphale was confused. Crowley rarely stopped by unless it was for business, to invoke the Arrangement.

But now he was just here, wearing that silky-looking, low cut shirt and devastatingly tight pants. His moustache might have been a bit ridiculous, but Aziraphale still felt the sharp pull of attraction in his gut.

If it had only been two hundred years ago, he could have crossed the room and pulled Crowley into a kiss. It would have been just like that day the bookshop opened, giddy and joyful as they stumbled up the stairs. They could have made love. And not just stood here gaping at each other.

"My...apologies," Aziraphale offered, unsure of what else to say. "I assumed you were here for the arrangement?"

He added a slight lilt to his words to make it clear it was a question. 

Crowley waved his hand dismissively. "Nah. Social visit. Have you heard about the new bar a few blocks over? Grand opening. I've got tickets. Thought you'd fancy it."

Aziraphale brightened up immediately at the prospect of time with Crowley. Non work time. But then he remembered it was probably a dreadful idea. It hurt enough to be around Crowley for professional reasons. Social ones would surely be worse.

He just couldn’t stop thinking about the distance between them. Sometimes the hurtful words they had said to each other would drift to the forefront of his mind. He hated it. But he’d rather suffer regret than an existence without Crowley.

Seeming to sense his hesitation, Crowley slunk closer to the till. "There's going to be canapes. Those prawns you like. With the sauce. An open bar. Just your sort of place," he said, letting his glasses droop and regarding Aziraphale with the full force of those eyes Aziraphale had once loved so much.

Still loved, if he were entirely honest.

"Oh, alright," Aziraphale said, pretending to be very put upon even as he pictured the buzzing lights of a trendy bar and the way they would certainly make Crowley look even lovelier than usual.

Crowley flashed him a smile. "Fabulous."

**

The place was very trendy with a great number of mirrors and far too many colors.

Aziraphale would hate it normally, but Crowley was thriving, flitting about the room to retrieve drinks and then the promised canapes and presenting them all with the flourish of a corvid wooing a mate.

Aziraphale looked at the prawn cocktail in front of him and then back at Crowley who was rhythmically tapping his hands against the table in time to the music. Now that was an interesting thought. Was Crowley…

It was strange that he had come out of nowhere with this invitation. He'd certainly not been interested in socializing last year when Aziraphale had invited him to the opera. He'd said something quite rude actually. But now, his behavior was quite different. He was being kind. Did Aziraphale dare entertain any hope at all?

"Thank you for inviting me tonight," Aziraphale ventured, fiddling with the tail of one of the prawns in front of him.

Crowley slurped his fizzy, pink drink and gave him a careless wave. "No trouble."

Aziraphale thought back to those first centuries of wooing. Back before he realized that was what Crowley was doing. Had it been like this? Bringing him to the best restaurants once he found out Aziraphale's preference for human cuisine. Showing up at his door with fruits from all over the world. He still remembered their first kiss. Under the stars at Versailles. Crowley had brought him marzipan and Aziraphale had felt so many strange emotions he couldn't contain and when Crowley had pressed him back against the nearest hedge, kissing had just seemed like the right thing to do.

It had been much more romantic than a gin fizz and a prawn cocktail but Aziraphale's heart still raced the same. It couldn’t possibly be true. Crowley didn't mean anything by this invitation. Nothing had changed, had it?

"Regardless," Aziraphale said, stirring his drink with the little swizel umbrella, "It's nice to be social. I’ve...missed our outings."

It was surely a risky thing to say. If Crowley didn’t mean anything by this then it would be a miscalculation, and Crowley would run off. Like Crowley always did.

Crowley looked at him sharply, and then slugged his drink back in one go.

"Want another?" Crowley didn't even pause for an answer before he was off to the bar. Aziraphale huffed and sullenly ate his prawn cocktail. That certainly confirmed that. Crowley was just being nice. This wasn’t some declaration of renewed feeling.

Crowley was done with him. They were just colleagues now. Barely even friends. No matter how Aziraphale felt about the situation, the regret that still followed him everywhere, he needed to respect that.

He looked despondently across the room and grew a bit distracted by the way Crowley's trousers hugged his bum. It really was a very nice bum. He had some lovely memories of grasping it while Crowley pressed between his legs, grinding down against--He was shaken from his musings when a hand appeared on said bum, obscuring his view and...and groping! 

His eyes shot to Crowley's face but the demon just tilted his head toward this interloper and smirked. A small flame of anger flickered to life in Aziraphale's chest. How dare he! It was one thing to invite him out like this despite their history and quite another to do so and ignore him in favor of flirting with some human.

He finished his drink and surged to his feet.

Trudging across the bar, he pushed through the slowly growing crowd and pressed up against the bar top.

"Hello, love," Aziraphale said sweetly, slipping his hand across Crowley's lower back and knocking away the other man's hand in the process. "You disappeared on me.

Crowley turned to look at him, mouth working like a fish very unfortunately finding itself on a dock, and quite surprised to be gasping for air.

"Hello, I'm Aziraphale," he said, sticking his hand across Crowley's torso to shake the other mans. 

"Um. Tom," the man said, shaking his hand briskly. "Sorry, mate. Didn't realize…"

He glanced between them and hurried off. Good riddance.

Crowley immediately shook off his arm and scowled. Aziraphale retreated to his own space and tried not to think too hard about how nice it had been to simply touch Crowley.

"Not very fair of you to act like that," Crowley sneered.

"Act like what? That man was being terribly forward."

"Yeah, well, it's nice to be wanted sometimes," Crowley snapped before waving down the bartender to order another drink. "I didn't invite you out here so you could rub my face in the fact that you dumped me."

Aziraphale sucked in a breath. And then it hit him. "Excuse me. You dumped me!"

Crowley froze with his shot halfway to his mouth. "No. No. No, no. Don't blame this on me. You stormed off!"

"You didn't reach out!"

"I wasn't the one who said we weren't friends!"

They were almost shouting now but really all Aziraphale was doing was looking at Crowley’s mouth and maybe a little bit at his stupid moustache because it sounded like maybe there was at least a hundred years of kissing to make up for.

Aziraphale swallowed, mouth oddly dry, and said, "Are you saying that you still…"

"Of course I still," Crowley hissed. He never had been very good during the emotionally fraught moments.

"Oh."

Aziraphale stared at Crowley.

Crowley stared back.

Aziraphale's heart was beating out a frenzy to rival even the awful music on the dancefloor. They needed to leave immediately because he very much needed to kiss Crowley and he was not interested in keeping it chaste.

"Come back to mine," Aziraphale said hurriedly.

They barely made it outside before Crowley was transporting them back to the bookshop. The lights weren't even on but Crowley was tossing aside his sunglasses and Aziraphale was sinking his hands into Crowley's ridiculous poofy hair and kissing him as deeply as he knew how. It wasn't good. It was messy and there was too much tongue but it wasn't about being good it was about being close.

"A century," Aziraphale gasped when they finally parted and Crowley began to drag kisses over his jaw."A whole century. I missed you so much."

"Thought you didn't want to see me," Crowley said into his neck, the vibrations of his voice and his moustache tickling the sensitive skin.

Aziraphale tugged him back up into a kiss and they stumbled back until his back collided with the nearest bookcase. Crowley nipped at his mouth as his fingers began to work over his buttons.

Crowley slid his hands under the newly parted waistcoat and dug his fingers into Aziraphale's hips. He groaned like Aziraphale was already touching him through his trousers even though all Aziraphale had managed was to sneak his fingers under the loose hem of Crowley's silk shirt.

"Gorgeous. So soft. So warm," Crowley mumbled as he pressed wet open mouthed kissed over his neck.

Aziraphale moaned and fumbled at Crowley's own buttons, barely managing them all before Crowley shucked the shirt off his shoulders and then there he was.

A century and Aziraphale hadn't forgotten the exact slope of his ribs. The gentle upward curve. The way he could slot his fingers into the shadows of the bones and simply hold him. He remembered how much Crowley loved his hips being kissed. How the spot under his left ear was ticklish but he still loved when Aziraphale kissed it.

Aziraphale tugged him close and got to work on his zip. "I need to feel you," he said and even he couldn't believe how wrecked he sounded. Just from a little kissing. 

Crowley groaned as Aziraphale took him in hand. He reveled in the long, solid length of him. 

"You too," Crowley gasped, fumbling at Aziraphale's trousers. His hips kept jumping in little jerks, pressing up into Aziraphale's hand. Each movement made Aziraphale's heart skip another beat. At this rate, he would expire before they even got naked.

Then Crowley's hand was on him and Aziraphale was the one shaking, body moving closer to Crowley's, seeking him always. 

"Oh, darling," Aziraphale said, trying to capture his mouth in another kiss that turned into a slick slide of lips and tongue while Crowley twisted his wrist the way that had Aziraphale's knees trembling.

Crowley pressed him closer to the bookshelf, pushing their hips together until their cocks touched and that was enough to make Aziraphale shudder. 

Crowley bit at his neck, teeth scraping the deliciously sensitive skin. The bristles of his moustache rubbed against his neck, giving him goosebumps. Then Crowley wrapped his hand around both of them, palm miraculously slick. Aziraphale moaned, head tipped back against the bookshelves. He loved when Crowley took care of him like this.

It was the steady stroke of Crowley's clever fingers, the hot slick slide of lube, Aziraphale was lost to it all. Every muscle in his body was being pulled taut. He was so close.

"Im going to--"

Crowley silenced him with a kiss. His cock pulsed between them, his spend joining the slick of lube as Crowley continued to work over them. It was too much, but then he felt the trembling in Crowley's legs and the hot pulse of him coming over his hand. 

Crowley moaned into his mouth like Aziraphale was somehow the finest dish he'd ever tasted, slipping his tongue inside so they could trade lazy, sloppy kisses.

"Upstairs?" Crowley asked when they finally parted.

Overwhelmed by the entire situation, Aziraphale simply nodded and they stumbled up together, Crowley trying to sneak his hands into Aziraphale's clothes and failing.

It was exactly what Aziraphale had wished for earlier in the evening and never in a million years had he thought it might come to pass. Well, maybe in a million years. Crowley could certainly never stay angry with him for that long.

Crowley pushed him back onto the double bed he only bought for the bookshop when crowley complained about sleeping on the sofa (and fucking on the sofa). It creaked under his weight as Crowley tugged off his shoes and trousers.

"Take off your blessed shirt or I'll rip it off," Crowley said, not sounding particularly serious but Aziraphale wasn't going to protest a little forcefulness.

When he'd removed his final layer, he was treated to the view of Crowley trying to shimmy out of too tight trousers.

He grinned. He couldn't stop himself. "I love you."

Crowley paused in his awkward hopping and looked up at him. His floppy hair was hanging in his face and his moustache could have probably used a combing. But Aziraphale loved him.

The demon grinned and managed to shuck off his pants. "On your belly. I'm going to eat you out."

Aziraphale squeaked and obeyed. He'd barely had the opportunity to grasp a pillow before Crowley's hands were on him.

"Fuck, this arse," Crowley said quietly. Aziraphale felt the dart of a tongue against the dimples of his back and then Crowley was spreading him open and pressing in deep with his tongue.

Aziraphale groaned, spent cock twitching against the sheets. Crowley dug his hands into the meat of Aziraphale's arse and spread him even wider. There was the steady drip of saliva as Crowley got him wet before dipping his tongue inside. Aziraphale tore at the pillow he was grasping and felt his legs spasm. Distantly, he heard Crowley laugh.

He could feel the scrape of Crowley's moustache along sensitive skin, the lewd press of the flat of his tongue as Crowley lapped at him. Aziraphale moaned and gave himself over to it. Crowley would take care of him. 

Aziraphale's whole body was shaking before Crowley relented.

"Roll over," Crowley said softly, tugging on his hip until Aziraphale obeyed.

Aziraphale felt blissed out, utterly boneless, and yet Crowley looked just as wrecked. His mouth was swollen and slick from his efforts, his moustache damp and messy. Aziraphale reached for his cock. He stroked it, watching with pleasure as liquid beaded at the tip.

He leaned forward and sucked it down. Pulling back before he gave into the urge to suck Crowley dry, he laid onto his back and looked him in the eye. "I want you to fuck me."

Crowley groaned and fell forward on his forearms. He tucked his face into Aziraphale's neck and shuddered. Aziraphale hooked his leg around Crowley's calf and tugged.

"Inside me. Now."

Aziraphale prepped himself with a quick miracle. He hated how far away Crowley was. Crowley kissed him briefly before rising up on his knees so he could tip Aziraphale's hips back. Aziraphale watched as Crowley grasped the base of his own cock, lining himself up before sinking inside slowly. They groaned simultaneously and Aziraphale wrapped his legs around Crowley's waist, trying to draw him in as far as possible.

"I missed this," Crowley gasped, experimentally rocking his hips. "Missed you."

Aziraphale's back arched as Crowley scraped over his prostate. His body was lighting up in the way it only ever had with Crowley. He cast out onto the sheets and twisted his hands in the fabric. It had been so long since he had felt so entirely loved.

Crowley was fucking him now. Hips snapping in a sharp rhythm that kept pushing Aziraphale out of his body in sharp pleasant bursts of sensation. He wrapped a hand loosely around his cock but was unable to move it before Crowley tipped them over, tugging Aziraphale into his lap.

"Ride me. You're always so gorgeous when you--" he broke off on a moan as Aziraphale obeyed, moving his hips the way he remembered liking best. His cock bounced in front of him, lewd and tawdry in a way that he loved. He'd always liked his little moments of filth with Crowley.

Crowley planted his feet on the bed and wrapped his arms around Aziraphale's back so he could surge up into a kiss. It was suddenly too much and Crowley wrapped his hand around Aziraphale cock just before he felt the pulse of his orgasm gather in his stomach, releasing and making his hips stutter. Crowley gasped into his mouth, holding him in place and kissing him even deeper as Aziraphale fucked himself through his orgasm. 

Things were a bit pleasure hazy, but he was fairly certain Crowley held his hips in place and fucked him until he came too. A sharp groan and then more kisses.

Breathing hard, Crowley laid him back against the mussed pillows before kissing him a final time. Deep and slow. After Crowley flopped onto his back to catch his own breath, Aziraphale rolled onto his side and brushed his fingers through Crowley's chest hair. "I love you. I'm sorry we fought."

Crowley laughed, a short wry huff. "Can't believe you thought I dumped you. Why would I ever dump you?"

Aziraphale scowled through the very warm glowy feeling that Crowley's words set off in his chest. "You were quite cross."

"Yeah, well, I get angry at you when you tell me to follow the speed limit. Me being cross shouldnt mean anything."

Aziraphale twined their fingers together and pressed a kiss to Crowley's knuckles. "Maybe next time, we both agree to talk through it a bit more."

Crowley smiled at him and it made his heart jump around giddily. It had been a while since he'd gotten a genuine smile from Crowley. He'd somehow forgotten how beautiful they were.

"You've got a deal, angel."


End file.
